The title of this article is not intended to disparage the value of freedom of speech in a modern democratic society. The right freely and publicly to criticise the institutions of government, the conduct of public affairs whether by the executive or Parliament, the freedom, indeed, to criticise the performance of the judiciary—that right is one of the glories of the unwritten constitution of this country. Its importance is constantly and forcefully emphasised in our highest courts. In one of the Spycatcher cases Lord Bridge of Harwich said that the right to freedom of speech is one of the fundamental freedoms essential to a free society.1 In the same case Lord Oliver quoted Blackstone's statement that the liberty of the press is essential to the nature of a free State.2 More recently Lord Goff of Chieveley, observing that he could see no inconsistency between English law and the European Convention on Human Rights in relation to freedom of speech, added: “This is scarcely surprising, since we may pride ourselves on the fact that freedom of speech has existed in this country perhaps as long as, if not longer than, it has existed in any other country in the world.”3

Though generally uncontroversial in England, the rules on pleading and proof of foreign law are nevertheless of interest from the comparative point of view by reason of the diversity of approaches found in different European countries. There is, moreover, a feeling on the part of some Continental lawyers that the English rules undermine the objectives of international and EU initiatives on conflict of laws and that the United Kingdom does not, therefore, fully carry out its international and EU obligations in this regard. These accusations have been levelled in particular with regard to the Rome Convention.1 In view of this, a comparative study of the different approaches in the main European countries might be timely; it might also provide an appropriate background for an examination of the question whether the Rome Convention requires any modification of the traditional English approach.

The Maastricht Treaty aimed partly to close the democratic deficit that exists in the European decision-making process. Accordingly, the role and the powers of the European Parliament were increased: a right of initiative was created, 1 committees of inquiry were reinforced, 2 the right of petition3 was recognised, an Ombudsman was created4 and a new legislative procedure, 5 which attempted to put the Parliament on an equal footing with the Council, was also included in the Treaty.

In this article the legal and institutional issues surrounding the transition to a European Central Bank (ECB) will be discussed. The transition to a single currency entails many legal and institutional issues, both at the European level and at member State level. I will focus on a few main themes.

This article considers the development in several Commonwealth jurisdictions of the law relating to “horizontal subdivisions”2, or subdivided buildings. The latter expression describes the situation where title to land can relate to a slice of defined area or cubic space, which is not grounded on the surface layer of the earth, and is divided not only horizontally, but vertically as well.

The State enterprise was the most conspicuous symbol of the socialist economy. In the late 1980s the gradual demise of the command system based on State ownership and the restructuring of economic relations were accompanied by the introduction of a variety of new forms of commercial organisation into the Soviet legal system.

In three important decisions,1 handed down on the same day in October 1994, the Australian High Court continued its exploration of the implied constitutional guarantee of freedom of political communication. Two years previously, in the judgments in Nationwide News Pty Ltd v. Wills2 and Australian Capital Television Pty Ltd v. The Commonwealth,3 a majority of the High Court had distilled an implication of freedom of political communication from the provisions and structure of the Australian Constitution.4 This was not an implication of freedom of expression generally, since it was derived from the concept of representative government which the majority considered to be enshrined in the Constitution: “not all speech can claim the protection of the constitutional implication of freedom … identified in order to ensure the efficacious working of representative democracy and government”.5 The extent of this implied constitutional guarantee was left rather unclear, since a number of different views were expressed. As Justice Toohey has now explained,6 there were two possibilities. The first was a more limited “implied freedom on the part of the people of the Commonwealth to communicate information, opinions and ideas relating to the system of representative government”. The second was a rather more expansive “freedom to communicate in relation to public affairs and political matters generally”. In the recent trilogy of cases a majority of the High Court was prepared to endorse the second of these alternatives.7 In Cunliffe v. The Commonwealth Chief Justice Mason concluded that it would be too restrictive to limit the implied freedom to “communications for the purposes of the political processes in a representative democracy”.8

The recent decision of the House of Lords in Kuwait Airways Corporation v. Iraqi Airways Company1 has done little to help resolve one of the most difficult questions relating to the practical application of the 1978 State Immunity Act. Indeed, it highlights the near intractable nature of the question at the heart of the case: was the seizure and subsequent operation by the respondent (IAC) of ten aircraft belonging to the applicant (KAC) an act—or action (and the distinction is important)—which attracted immunity under the Act? The answer to such a question is difficult enough when the acts involved are done by a State. When, as in this case, they are done not by the State but at the behest of the State, it becomes even more difficult to resolve and the principal problem with the decision of the majority in the House of Lords is that it fails fully to appreciate the full effect of this point of difference. Moreover, in order to return to the position abandoned by their interpretation of the Act, the majority raise the spectre of justiciability, which not only introduces additional complications but also distorts the frame of reference.

The genius of the century is also changing the conditions of our action overseas, leading us to bring an end to colonization. It is entirely natural that one should feel nostalgia for what was the Empire, just as one may regret the gentle light of oil lamps, the splendour of the navy under sail. But there is no valid politics outside realities.

The Convention on the International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) has become one of the better-known environmental treaties, partly as a result of the considerable attention it received in connection with the restrictions it imposed on the ivory trade. Despite its successes, however, the text of the treaty has not kept pace with developments since it was first approved in 1973. It remains, for instance, an environmental treaty with some of the characteristics of a trade treaty, drafted as if it were to operate in a hostile world of non-parties. Instead, in contrast, it has been signed by 128 parties1 and functions at a time when public and political concern about the environment has never been greater.

In the negotiations for the Treaty on European Union,1 “subsidiarity” assumed central importance. This was the first time that the term was expressly incorporated with general effect into the Treaty.2 The principal provision3 is Article 3b, which reads:

The Community shall act within the limits of the powers conferred upon it by this Treaty and of the objectives assigned to it therein.

In areas which do not fall within its exclusive competence, the Community shall take action, in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, only4 if and in so far as the objectives of the proposed action cannot be sufficiently achieved by the Member States and can therefore, by reason of the scale or effects of the proposed action, be better achieved by the Community.

Any action by the Community shall not go beyond what is necessary to achieve the objectives of this Treaty.

The conclusion of the Uruguay Round and the establishment of the World Trade Organisation raised one of the most touchy issues of the European architecture, notably the division of powers between the Community and the member States in the field of international economic relations. The dispute was settled by the European Court of Justice in Opinion 1/94, which was delivered on 15 November 1994.1 Although more than a year has passed since its publication, there are still a number of good reasons to explore the findings of the Court in Opinion 1/94 from the point of view of the Community constitution.

On 4 August 1995 the UN Conference on Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks, at its sixth session, adopted without a vote the text of the Agreement for the Implementation of the provisions of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea relating to the Conservation and Management of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks.1 The title is often shortened to “the Straddling Stocks Agreement”. To date, the Agreement has been signed by 29 States.2 It marks a significant clarification and development in the rules of international law relating to fishing on the high seas, within the framework of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea.

The government's decision, announced on 22 October 1993, to ratify the 1977 Additional Protocols to the Geneva Conventions of 1949 as soon as amendments to the Geneva Conventions Act 1957 could be made led to a race to pass the bill through all its stages in both Houses before 4 December 1995.1 This was the date of the International Conference of the Red Cross and Red Crescent held in Geneva and it was argued in the House of Lords that the British Red Cross should be able to attend the conference and to say that the necessary domestic legislation had been passed to enable ratification to take place. The bill had started its life in the House of Lords and had received its second reading only on 25 May 1995. It was, in fact, given the royal assent on 19 July 1995.